


Waking Dreams

by KibblerEars



Series: Dreams in the Night [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Erotophonophilia, Just...don't read this if non-con is a trigger okay?, M/M, Non-Consensual, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, OC Character Death, Rape/Non-con Elements, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-26 06:21:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KibblerEars/pseuds/KibblerEars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a universe where the world still needs Captain America and Iron Man, Steve Rogers and Tony Stark have found they fit together in a way no one imagined possible and now, they're cutting a bloody path through the night-dark streets of New York.</p><p>But it's the morning after that always get them the most.  Because the morning after a kill is always a titillating thrill for Steve. He's pliant and desperate for a touch; a firm touch that only Tony can give.  And now that Tony has seen Steve come apart under him like that, he can never give him up.</p><p>[You should read the first one in the series before you read this one. It can be found <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/915362">here</a>.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waking Dreams

He wakes to the feeling of warm hands dancing along his upper chest. Calloused fingers tease his nipples and he keeps his eyes closed but lets a sly smirk play on his lips. A familiar voice laughs in his ear, stubble scratching against his cheek. 

“What would the public say if they knew you were such a tease, Captain?” 

Steve Rogers gives into his desire to laugh, wrapping his arms around the man on top of him and pulling him close as he finally opens his eyes, “they’d say Tony Stark is the bad influence they always thought he was.” 

“Mm, and wouldn’t they be utterly scandalized to know _you_ were the one who corrupted _me_?” Tony winks at him, leaning down for a closed mouth kiss - he hates morning breath the way Fury hates him - before nudging free of the thick arms around him and climbing to his feet. 

“Up and at ‘em, Capsicle. Morning clean-up awaits us.” 

Steve’s smirk breaks into a broad grin and he practically jumps out of the bed, trying not to bounce after Tony into their private en suite. His blue gaze falls to the bundle currently stashed in the stand-up shower in the far corner of the lavish washroom and he wills away a surge of arousal. His thoughts drift back to the night of lust and darkness he and Tony shared last night. There’s a familiar itch within his fingertips and he reaches out to brush his tingling fingers along Tony’s bare neck. 

Tony, already halfway through brushing his teeth, flashes Steve a foamy, knowing grin. His brown eyes twinkle with a dark reminder of the previous night and with a quiet acknowledgement of what Steve needs and wants this morning after. He spits into the sink and rinses quickly before spinning around, leaning back against the marble countertop. His pink tongue runs over his bottom lip slowly as his eyes appraise his partner in heroics, in bed, and in crime. “On your knees, soldier.”

Steve sinks to his knees almost gratefully. Tony’s hand cards through his blonde hair, petting him until Steve loses himself in the soothing sensation of Tony’s slender fingers on him. Tony bends, his lips brushing Steve’s earlobe, “you’ve such pretty lips.” 

He kisses just under Steve’s ear, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin there, “watching them pull and suckle at that bitch’s pert tit last night was almost enough to make me come on the spot.” His fingers drift lower when Steve begins to make low rumbles of want and need deep in his chest, “made me want to rip you off her and shove my cock deep in your throat while she watched. Her terror was already so delicious on her face, imagine how tangible it would have been in the air if we had made her watch as I fucked your mouth and throat completely and utterly raw.” 

Whining, Steve presses up into Tony’s hands, body already aching for more. He fights the urge to touch Tony with his own hands, knowing if he does, Tony will deny him the relief he so craves. 

“Would you have like that, Steven?” Tony scratches his fingers softly along Steve’s scalp as Steve once again whines in want, “I’ll have to remember that the next time it’s my turn to be in charge, won’t I?” 

He glances up at Tony through his lashes, voice rough and harsh with lust, “if you do it now, I’ll skip my turn to pick for you.” He throws in a sly wink for good measure as he watches Tony stare down at him in silent disbelief for a long moment before his genius is laughing, leaning down to kiss Steve properly, possessive and dark. Tony’s fingers dig into Steve’s scalp, sending shivers of desire down his spine, spreading out along his skin as goosebumps and hot lust. Tony’s teeth bite at Steve’s lips hard enough to make them throb. One of Tony’s hands falls from Steve’s head as the genius sinks to his knees in front of Steve. He dances his fingers down Steve’s neck, along his shoulder to his bare bicep. His nails dig into the already fading bruise left by the teeth of their last victim the night before; pain flashes through his system, sharp and hard and exactly what Steve craves. 

Arching into the harsh touch, Steve moves closer to Tony, breaking the kiss to beg as he nuzzles along Tony’s stubble, licking and kissing all he can touch, “please, Tony, _please._ I need…” 

Tony’s mouth cuts him off and Steve abandons his role to wrap a hand around the back of Tony’s neck. The single action is enough to get Tony back into gear and he pulls away from Steve, fixing him with a stern look, “now, now, Steven, what’s the rule about touching before cleanup?” 

Steve keeps his hand where it is, smirking at Tony in silent answer as Tony’s lips curl into a dark grin once more. He twists in Steve’s grip, cackling when Steve easily lets him go, and he pushes Steve down onto the floor of the bathroom. His mouth and hands are everywhere on Steve’s body and Steve lets himself sink into the soft and rough sensations of his lover overtop him. 

His gaze drifts from Tony over to the shower, where the body of Zoe MacDonald lay, lifeless at the tender age of twenty-two, her brown hair soaked red with her own blood. She was wrapped in plastic, barely visible through the crinkled folds of the material but still his heart skips a beat, his cock throbbing with the need for release. Tony glances up to Steve with a bright smirk, his eyes following to see where Steve was looking. He reaches up to grip Steve’s chin, turning him back to Tony once more, “we did that, Steven. Do you remember how she felt squirming in your grasp? How she thought she could escape that beautiful strength of yours?” 

He nods, eyes slipping closed at the memory. Her hazel eyes flashes across his vision and he gasps, arching up against Tony, relishing in the feel of the answering hardness against his own length. Tony’s lips are at his ear again as he reaches down to wrap a hand around Steve, “remember how her nails scratched at your skin? How she tried so hard to escape you but she couldn’t? Remember the way she cried, how her tears decorated your skin?” 

A sound not unlike a sob escapes Steve and he twists to bury his face in Tony’s neck, mouthing helplessly along Tony’s flesh. Tony’s breath escapes him in a shaky exhale but he keeps going, voice harsh with the lust of remembrance, “her skin was so soft, Steven, it bruised so easily. She was so certain that we’d save her when we found her in that alley. Captain America and Iron Man to her rescue. But instead, we took her, we made her _ours_. We orchestrated the most beautiful symphony of her cries and pleas, mixed with your gasps and moans of pleasure and want. The way you moved over her, the way you made her body her favorite canvas.” He bites down on Steve’s neck, suckling lightly as he twists his hand over Steve’s cock. His supersolider is already so close, he always is the morning after. 

Steve groans against Tony’s neck, the vibrations sending shivers down Tony’s spine and he presses impossibly closer to Steve. “She begged me to stop you, didn’t she, Steven? Even when I began to tie her up her, to hold her still. She pleaded with me, thinking I could stop you. But she didn’t know that I would never stop you. I could never take you away from your favorite past time. You know what seeing those bruises, those bite marks does to me. You know how I love to watch you paint and bathe in the blood of innocents.” 

His cock throbs in Tony’s hand and he hitches up into the touch once more, leaking precome and fingers digging into Tony’s tanned skin hard enough to leave bruises on the other man. Tony finally falls silent, focusing on stroking Steve, quick and rough the way he likes it on these mornings. Steve’s teeth nip and tug at Tony’s skin and Tony feels like he’s on fire everywhere Steve is touching him, like a blazing inferno is marking him, and it ratchets up his own arousal. 

All it takes is one broken plea from Steve’s mouth, the word melting into Tony’s skin with a soft whimper, “ _please._ ” 

He rubs his thumb over the head of Steve’s cock, whispering out a soft order of “ _come for me, Steven,_ ” before he feels the heat of Steve’s come splashing over his hand and decorating Steve’s stomach.

Steve goes slack under him, slumping into the sweat-hot marble underneath him like it’s more comfortable than Tony’s plush mattress. His fingers hold onto Tony is a light hold, as though Tony is his only anchor to the real world. Tony presses light kisses along Steve’s cheek and jaw, pausing on his mouth for one soft, final kiss, breathing wordless words of love and affection into Steve’s mouth. His own cock is hard and throbbing against Steve’s thigh, but right now is about his partner, his lover, and he focuses on Steve, keeping him awake with light, barely there touches, and bringing him down from the high, the rush of adrenaline they only get on these precious mornings after they’ve finally killed again.


End file.
